I just wrote and didn’t publish a long diatribe about my own self-loathing. It’s an odd sort of dichotomy, because intellectually I understand I have value. But that doesn’t quite ever sink in to my core identity.
It’s quite an unhealthy way to see yourself, and the lengthy essay sounded like a cry for help rather than an objective look at my own psyche. So I won’t post it. But I sure do wish whatever is broken inside me wasn’t. (and no, I’m not going to see a therapist about it, because what if they fixed me?)
I certainly don’t deserve that.